Kiss of Life
by Resident-chick
Summary: Die, die we all pass away! But don't wear a frown, cuz it's really okay. And you might try 'n' hide, And you might try 'n' pray..But we all end up the remains of the day.. When Jake English make's the mistake of marrying to a young man by the name of Dirk Strider, it couldn't be worse. To make it worse, the blonde bastards dead. DirkJake, mild AraneaJake, ending will be different


Stories, theres always a story. And for Jake English, that story became what changed his life. Words can define what you do, and the meanings even more. His life was never meant to be such a...a...

God, what was the word for it?

His hand continued to flicker across the page, one line dodging and rejoining to create a series of waved lines. Details and creased edges, they form and bend until the figure flying in the bell glass before him is something copied onto the paper slip lying on his desk. No, the butterfly wasn't going to die mind you. Jake wasn't one to keep rare and beautiful things locked down and together until the final flutter or breath was drawn, no, he couldn't even kill a spider. Sure, while he had ten, even hundreds of sketches of these winged beauties, he had never seen one actually die. He wouldn't want to, death was one thing he couldn't stand, the one thing he never wanted to face, even alone.

He insisted on getting a room with opening windows, though his parents insisted from a young age he get a bay window of some sort. The stolen platter was lifted, and soon, the butterfly flew off while the young English cleaned up the mess he had created. Giving it's final fluttered goodbye, it gave departure.

The_ oh-so_ cheery, (Now see here dears, this is sarcasm.) town of Alternia worked like...well..clockwork. Each hour was ticked by steps, and steps by the ticking of pulsing mechanics only there to taunt children who wanted to make it home before sundown, or women who had a cheating husband on the way home and had to quickly determine what knife to kill him with.

The butterfly flew passed Miss Aradia's clock shop, and the Crocker's bakery that had long since shut down. This place was so depressing, so melancholy..dreaded...oh how he wished he could escape this place, and he would so too...if not for the marriage he was meant to be apart of.  
It wasn't because he didn't like Aranea, no, she was a sweetheart and a complete dear to him, but his affections dilated much from childhood crushes and peeks into each others lives. This wasn't love. This was because of money..And now that he can hear the lolloping of hooves to brick and cement grounds, Jake already knows his mother and father are going out to prepare their only child- only living child's- wedding before he even arrives.

Porrim hand's Horus her pipe then, already up and ready to steer the carriage. The job of being both a butcher and some sort of personal slave passed down from years of generation she never bothered to get into. Why should she? It was the past, history, and it would only cloud up what was happening now. That fool 'Dad'...helping his poor wife, "Mom" in, ha! She felt no pity or care to help them...what a stupid idea that would be.

And from across the way, the ones known as Fang and Scar eyed the two from beyond velvet and hinged curtains. The two hated each other, unlike their disgrace of a daughter, since they first crossed ways. Unlike the English's these two idiot's were broke. All their money went to flaunting, so once they found out they had a daughter on the way, down the drain it went.

And that's why everything, every last little thing, had to go just according to plan.

They could overhear Aranea talking to one of the maids, barging in all together once they heard her speak of "Emotions" and "Feelings". Ha, no human in a thirty day period of living with the Serkets would have those, much less the twenty two year old. "Aranea, do you honestly think me and your father, mm, like each other?"

As a yelp escaped the tightening of a corset once her mother commented on "If I can still hear you breathing, it's not laced properly." The timid women only gave them a pondering look. Sure her parents didn't get a long...ok..that was an understatement, but..they truly couldn't hate each other, right?

"Well, of course you do..you must, a little.."

* * *

"Shouldn't- I _at least_ have spoken to her? With in the last seventeen years? It's been longer then that since our last addressing, and I can't possibly real her in with only that behind me!" Jake frowned, looking down to his hands. "Shouldn't Miss Aranea be marrying a Lord...or a Prince...even a Duke..."

"Non sense!" His mother quickly grabbed the wall when the horses came to a whipped stop. Porrim was coughing again..probably sick off her ass at this point. "You'll be fine, all you need to do is real her in, read off the vows, and you're done!"

Jake felt like that butterfly from earlier, trapped in a contract he never even knew he had signed. For once, he wished he could be free...Not embedded as another name in a line of families stuck by money and not love. "Now come on, no long faces.." His mother grinned, the door flying open before she could say much more. The Serket's could be seen from a mile away really. These people weren't the happiest bunch, and Jake knew they weren't any better since they went bankrupted. No, that was the intention of this marriage, and whether or not he cared, his parent's didn't.

"Say _hello_ darling..." Fang quirked her eye to him, not wanting those...horrid shoes and muddied tracks to stay in for too long and stain the floor. Of course, Dualscar wasn't about to make himself look like some sort of fool, and before he could introduce himself, he was already turned to go down a hall, not bothering to wait for his daughter at the top of the staircase, peering over a large vase from Indonesia to only but listen on the conversation rather then go and participate herself in it.

"This way," He groaned, watching as the common baboons followed in awe, asking about the rugs and what type of paint they used..useless questions for useless people..Soon they would have their money and formality would _never_ be needed again in front of these people. The tea room, a perfect place to discuss bank transfers once their names were under the same name.

They left him,So as Jake eyed the small piano cornered in the room, even tempted to touch, he wondered if this was going to be his life now.

Wedded with a women he knew as a child.

In laws that hated him..

A controlled life, gosh, wouldn't that make for a story?

A very, very good tragedy.


End file.
